Muted
by DearGlasses
Summary: Trapped in her own mind, that's what she heard one of the doctors say. Trauma, trauma, had rendered her speechless.


**AN: Doesn't matter who you ship, I don't care, fill in whomever you'd like. Unbetaed, please forgive any mistakes. Not too sure on the time period, so whatever.**

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It was the words, the words she could say them, he was right there, why couldn't she get them out, every time she saw him, she wanted to say, what could she say, after everything they had been through, after everything they did together, she couldn't speak. A stupid, mute retard, no voice. She knew he visited her in the hospital every day, and every time he came by, she was asleep. She was ashamed. Embarrassed. Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, couldn't say three words to the most important person in her life.

_ Trapped in her own mind,_ that's what she heard one of the doctors say. Trauma, _trauma,_ had rendered her speechless. Literally. The rest of the team would visit occasionally, and she politely smiled and nodded and shook her head to their doctor-approved yes-or-no questions. They kept a nurse there to make sure none of them upset her. Nothing could upset her. None of _their_ questions anyways. He was the one to cause the most upset, but she never spoke to him. She knew when he would come, and had somehow managed to trick the staff into giving her narcotics an hour before he arrived. Before she figured _that _out, she pretended to sleep. It was hard, listening to him talk to her, just talk, for however long he could keep going.

The pain she felt hearing him, _right next to her oh he's so close why can't I reach out and touch_, was more intense than any of her various injuries.

Shepard had scars that would never completely heal. Oh, and physical scars too. Years from now, would they become interesting conversation starters? A nurse injected a clear liquid into her IV. They had to use primitive technology on her, because advanced equipment could compromise her atrial-septal defect repair. Whatever the hell that was. Shepard thought it might have something to do with her heart. Ironic.

Was her heart broken? Maybe it was her mind. Yes, her mind was broken. She blinked through the haze of narcotics, focusing on the shadowy figure approaching her. _He was here and she was still awake how can I be awake I need to say-_ Her eyelids drooped, and she fought to keep them open. She could talk, she was going to talk, _she needed to talk to him don't you dare fall asleep_

"I..." Shepard murmured. Not even a whisper, damn her. The sensation of a hand, _his hand_, slipping into hers kept her awake for a moment longer, trying desperately to focus on his face. Why does every moment have to be so hard? Her eyelids closed, and a single tear rolled down her scarred cheek.

Eight hours later, she woke to an empty room. Blearily, she tried to speak, tried to call out his name and get him to come back, _he needed to come back she needed to talk to him why couldn't she talk?_ She gripped her hair in frustration and tried to pull, rip it out and throw it across the room, _she needed to break something to hurt something or someone,_ but her hands were pulled free by a nurse.

Shepard motioned for a pad of paper and a writing instrument. She wanted to give him something that would last. Not a digital file that could be erased or deleted or become the victim of a server error. The nurse returned with a notebook and a pen, and left. What would she write? What was she even thinking, what could she say to him? She stared at the blank page for a full minute pondering this.

_It's painful for me to write this. I'm not even sure what I want to say. I'm not sure I _can_ say. Where did I go wrong? I was overwhelmed, and frankly scared as hell. I had no idea the night would take so damn long without you. Not even narcotics could fill the empty space you left. I can't say the words that would mend the things that are broken. Even the best fall down sometimes. What am I saying, I don't even make sense to me, how could you understand this? Nobody said it would be easy, but we did it anyways. If... if I lay here, in this hospital, if I just lay here, would you lie with me, and just forget the world? _

Shepard tore the sheet of and began to shred it, big pieces tearing apart into smaller and smaller fragments. She would wait until later, when she wasn't coming off of a huge dose of Hyrodetoxinate, or some chemical she couldn't remember the name of. Her mind was still foggy, her nose still full of his scent and her hand still warm from his. How that was possible, she didn't know, he must have left hours ago... The door slid open to reveal him, standing there, holding some hot beverage. It was obvious he had been here all night.

"Shepard...!" she could hear the surprise in his voice. The panic must have been evident on her face. He moved quickly to her bedside, settling in the chair she hadn't noticed before. The mere fact that she had been awake must have thrown him off balance. He forgot everything he was going to say to her, but it didn't matter. She didn't realize that she was crying until he gently wiped the tears from her face, being careful to avoid the bandages and scars. Shepard gasped, and they embraced. Finding words that she had meant to utter a long time ago, they rolled off her tongue, thick and fast like her tears.

"I'm sorry."


End file.
